


Dream (of the future) and fall

by KathyRoland



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark, Dreaming, M/M, Spark Stiles, Waiting for the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 18:37:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11019213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyRoland/pseuds/KathyRoland
Summary: Stiles dreams such dreams that he will never admit.Peter waits for the time to be right.





	Dream (of the future) and fall

He dreams. He dreams of fire and ruin, blood and screams, death and despair. He dreams of red eyes fading to blue, of long claws and growing hair. He dreams and wants. 

Stiles doesn’t know what to do with these wants- won’t acknowledge the path he must tread to reach them. Instead, he refuses to think of such things in the day time. He smiles and laughs, jokes and squabbles. He investigates with his friends, his pack save one. He faces any threat to his pack with a baseball bat and his well earned book knowledge, but will not turn to the danger that lurks within in their midst. The dangers. When his mind wanders, he forces it back.

He dreams. He dreams of forests burning and blood gushing. He dreams of his enemies hung by the branches of a new born tree. He hates himself after.

So Stiles bleeds for his pack. He runs with his pack, he screams when such a thing is necessary but never cries, for to acknowledge that deep of hurt would be to dredge up something deep in his being that he never wants exposed.

And if he dreams of a hand cradling his, of teeth imprinting into his flesh and carving out his ultimate path? Well, he acknowledges that only to himself and only when he is on the cusp of sleep.

He knows he would make a wolf unlike any other. He knows his pack would dwindle down to one (the one he never looks to). He knows that such a journey would mean leaving all he knows behind- his father, his friends, his life as he knows it. 

Still he dreams of hands holding him down, a body covering his. He dreams of being taken from all that he is and reformed into what he will be. He dreams of endless pleasure and the absolute highs of ecstasy. He tries to wrench his thoughts away from such visions and refuses to acknowledge it.

But he cannot stifle that surge of want, of lust and yearning that will rise up within him at moments. His will is strong, but thread by thread it is fraying.

Peter never pushes him. He never confronts him, and allows Stiles to set the pace. Still, he is watchful and his keen eyes will track the young spark. 

Each wonders “what if?” and each knows the answer.

Peter will watch Stiles from afar and wonder when.

Stiles will look away and refuse to listen to the his own answer in his veins. His heart beats a rhythm as each day passes and the time grows closer.

Peter allows this. If he’s learned anything at all, he’s learned that patience has it’s own rewards. To wait for the fruit to grown ripe on the branch and fall on its own is better than to snag it before it’s ready.

So they wait. They dream the same dreams and both look to the same future, though only one will allow himself to revel in it in his waking hours.

Blood is coming. Fire and screams and pain and death. They both await it, waiting to savor each breath spent together as they tear down the world. 

And Stiles dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think. First time writing in a long time. I welcome any feedback or constructive criticism.


End file.
